A New Breed
by Karpah
Summary: Even after the war, they didn't learn. Now they're on the verge of making the biggest mistake ever. Can 7A stop the new breed? (work in progress)
1. Prologue: The First Mitochondria War

**PROLOGUE**

**THE FIRST MITOCHONDRIA WAR**

At the beginning of the 21st century, Australia was at war. At war with the neo-mitochondrial Kyzah forces, that were threatening to take over the world.

Yes, neo-mitochondria exists. It exists in each and every one of the Kyzah movement, either naturally or artificially. But it exists. And it's all powerful.

The Kyzahs had dreams of world domination. Their leader, Jay Talleja, had recycled Hitler's ideology of a superior race, and was determined to follow it through all the way to the end, killing every "non-enlightened" human being on the planet, starting with Australia.

One of Australia's defenses against the Kyzahs was the best investigative and assault team on the planet. This team, known to all as Jade Columbia, or JC, was composed of five of the best agents in the world. JC were the best of the best. No other individual team even came close. JC were sent in after the Kyzahs.

No-one knows exactly what happened the day the two sides clashed for the first time. What we do know is that the JC members betrayed Australia, betrayed us all. They switched sides, threw all their resources and expertise into helping the Kyzahs.

We won the war, eventually. The rebel Kyzah forces were defeated.

Rumors were abound for months after the final battle, the Battle of Camperdown, that the government had developed a weapon capable of destroying neo-mitochondria. But nothing was ever proven.

JC were never seen again after the war. Some speculate that they died, in the Battle of Camperdown. Others surmise that they survived the war, and now live quietly under assumed names. No-one knows the truth. No-one except one person.

But this one person now has a bigger problem on her hands… and somehow, it will lead her straight back to _them…_


	2. Chapter 1: Introducing Elite Section 7A

**CHAPTER 1**

**INTRODUCING ELITE SECTION 7A**__

_19th January 2011_

I could hear his voice over my headphones. Mocking me, he was. Daring me.

"C'mon, Bec, let's see what you can do. You think you're such a hotshot? Fine, see if you can handle this."

And he started up level eleven of the target practice.

I was at the officially-sanctioned National Crime Authority shooting range. My best friend and training partner, Graham, was outside the booth, running the show. He had gotten sick of all my big-talk and wanted to show me I wasn't as good as I thought I was. I merely laughed, and took aim with my P229.

A minute and a half and forty targets later, I was done. I turned around and saw Graham just staring, open mouthed. He couldn't believe it. I grinned.

"Now let's see what _you can do, buddy."_

As I ran him through his target practice, my mobile phone rang. Noting who the call was from, I patched it through so I could hear it over the headphones. Graham could hear it as well.

"Hey Larry, how are you?"

"I'm alright, and yourself?"

Before I had the chance to reply, Graham swore loudly as he missed a target.

"You're at the range, huh?"

"Now, how did you work that out?"

"Lucky guess. I'll drop by in a few minutes and pick you guys up, we have a meeting to go to."

 "Great, what's happened this time?"

"I'm not too sure. All I know is, I got the call from Munro, and we have to be in his office at noon. Is it just you and Graham down there? Where's Tamara and Daniel?"

"I can answer you one of those questions," Graham broke in. "It's just us down here, the whole place is deserted."

"And I can answer the other one," I replied. "Daniel's at a lecture, down at William Angliss, and Tamara should be at home, surfing the net."

"Can you call Tamara? I'll get Daniel. Something tells me this is important."

"Yeah, okay, I'll call her."

"Great, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay, see ya then."

In the time it took me to hang up the phone and disentangle myself from various forms of headgear, Graham was out of the booth and glaring at me.

"I'll never understand how you do it, Bec. Level eleven and all!"

"It's just one of those special skills," I replied smoothly. "Either you've got it, or you don't. And, I hate to say it, Graham, but I don't think you've got it."

He scowled. "Yeah, well, I'm better than you at a lot of things, you know."

I picked up my phone and kept talking as I dialed Tamara's number. "But, you see, the thing is, I don't really care whether or not I'm good at some of the things you do, like art for example… oh, hey Tamara, listen, Larry just called, we've got a meeting at noon, I'm down at the shooting range now, with Graham, how soon can you be here?"

Graham stalked off, muttering to himself. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could imagine all too well. I laughed.

"Five minutes? Perfect. Larry will pick us up, and we'll all head down there as a group. See you then." And I got up and headed after Graham.

Five minutes later, just as Tamara arrived, Larry pulled up outside. Impatiently, he started tooting on the horn. Quickly jumping in the passenger's seat, I noticed Graham approaching the car, still scowling.

"You'd better watch out," I whispered to Tamara, Larry, and Daniel. "He thought he'd be a show-off, and set me level eleven, and I managed it and he didn't. This time he's really pissed off."

Daniel laughed, Larry nodded, and Tamara giggled. Graham climbed in the back seat, killing all forms of conversation with his foul mood. And in that spirit, the five of us headed off to our meeting.

So that's us, Elite Section 7A. Or just 7A for short, no need for terms like "elite" with us. We know we're elite. We know we're the best.

We've been together as a group for just over a year, since the end of the First Mitochondria War. Our official role in the NCA is "to monitor the prevention of neo-mitochondria and related genetic manipulation." Sure, we do that, but we also do a lot more. I mean, most of us are experts with firearms, some of us are known for computer hacking, you name it, we can do it.

Me, I don't remember the formation of the group. When 7A was formed, I was still in intensive care after the war. But that's another story in itself.

There was Larry, 7A's leader. I watched him as he drove. He was twenty-three years old, the youngest of all of us. He stood the same height as me, five foot seven, with short brown hair and intense blue eyes. He had a reputation for being the "serious" one in the group, but we all knew that wasn't the truth. When he had a bit to drink, he knew how to party. It just didn't happen too often, that's all.

Then there was Daniel, who was currently annoying the hell out of me, by kicking the back of my seat. I had known Daniel the longest out of any of the group, I'd been friends with him since we were little pee-wee twelve year olds. He was my age, twenty-six, but he was six foot tall. He had a fully-shaved head, thanks to a bet he'd lost to me, and the darkest brown eyes. I could read him like an open book, and it had always been that way.

There was Graham, who had been my best friend for a number of years now. He was still glowering at me, but it wouldn't last long. He was twenty-four, stood five foot nine, with short brown spikes on his head and stormy blue-gray eyes. He knows me better than anyone on the planet, he should have known I was only mucking around with him before! But no, he takes me seriously. Again.

Then there was Tamara. To this day, I have no idea why she was in our group. She was my age as well, and was a typical blonde bombshell - long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and legs I'd kill to have. She was also a complete fashion plate. She hated getting her hands dirty, and she was terrible with a gun. It's going to sound really mean, but I sometimes wondered who she'd slept with to secure herself a spot in 7A. I mean, I liked her and everything, she just didn't fit in with us.

And finally, there's me, Rebecca. There isn't really much to say about me. Twenty-six, permanently messy brown hair, brown eyes, five foot seven. Oh, and the neo-mitochondria. Can't forget to mention those. If Australia's census records are correct, I am the only person alive with neo-mitochondria. Sometimes I forget I actually have them. I never learnt to harness their power properly. 

It's a long story how I came to possess neo-mitochondria. I'll sum it up like this - First Mitochondria War. Jade Columbia. Everyone's heard of them, knows how they "betrayed the world". Well, I've got news for everyone. We didn't betray them. That's right, _we. I was part of JC, though no-one knows it._

Everyone remembers the bad guys, the guys that sought to use their neo-mitochondria to do harm. There was Jay Talleja, leader of the Mitochondria movement. There was Matt, Phil, Mike, Brett and Buffy, members of the Jade Columbia. They're household names, sort of like Christopher Skase. No-one ever remembers the good guys! Consequently, no-one knows my name. Which is just the way I like it.

I was startled out of my reverie by Larry's angry hammering of the horn. I won't repeat what he said, I think it comes under the category of 'road rage'. I checked my watch - five past twelve. No wonder he was mad. I laughed to myself - it was funny watching him get all worked up. Munro hated it when we were late. I wondered how much trouble we were going to get into…


	3. Chapter 2: Celgro and the NeoMitochondri...

**CHAPTER 2**

**CELGRO AND THE NEO-MITOCHONDRIA DEBATE**

At quarter past twelve, we _finally managed to pull up outside the local branch of the NCA. Larry double-parked, claiming "if I get a ticket, the NCA will pay for it" (though I wasn't so sure they would) and we all hurried inside._

Five minutes later, we were all seated in the conference room, around a large table I'm willing to bet was bigger than my bedroom. Munro sat on one side, the five of us on the other. Peter Munro was our connection to the NCA, and he supervised us to make sure we were "proper representatives of Australia's law enforcement." He was a big man, well over six feet and built like one of my aunt and uncle's Kenwood trucks. 

"Well now, I suppose you're wondering why I called you here on such short notice."

Murmurs around the table. I'm glad I wasn't the only one who thought it strange.

"I'll make this short and sweet, I know you all have busy lives that I'm sure you can't wait to get back to. Young ones such as yourselves, so young and so free…"

His eyes took on a nostalgic quality and he started to ramble on about the wonder of youth. Larry coughed loudly, and it snapped Munro back to the present.

"Ah, yes, sorry about that. Getting back to the topic at hand, we've had an interesting development in the yearly audit of Celgro. You've all heard of Celgro, I assume?"

Nods. Of course we'd heard of Celgro, the biggest medical research company this side of the equator.

"Up until recently, all of Celgro's focus has been on the cloning of human organs, completely legitimate. But the word coming through now is that Celgro have embarked on a new project. They're apparently tampering with genetic manipulation, trying to create a new breed of neo-mitochondria."

I had to interrupt. "Sir, a _new breed of neo-mitochondria?"_

"That's what I've been told, don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger. So Celgro are to be the subject of your latest investigation. The codename of the project in question is Project Stella, and the man in charge is Stephen Dobson."

He passed around manila folders with short dossiers about Celgro, Dobson and the latest information on Stella. The photos of Dobson showed a scrawny man, about six foot tall, with brown hair and a short straggly beard.

"Keep an eye on Dobson. The NCA needs to know anything you can find about Project Stella, especially how far their genetic tampering goes. I don't mean to sound all doomsday, but they don't want a replay of the war, which is what they're scared of. The NCA want you guys doing the investigation, because you guys are the best."

I can't speak for the others, but I perked up a little when he complimented us.

Munro made a big show of checking his watch, then continued his little monologue.

"Well, you've been given the orders. As usual, you have the full investigatory powers and resources of the NCA behind you. You'll report back here in two weeks, with complete reports from each of you. I have to get going now, I'm a busy man, and you guys were late, like always." 

I heard Graham trying to hide laughter. Guess he was happy again.

"So I'll see you guys out, and good luck with your investigation."

We filed out of the conference room, and back out to Larry's beat-up Mitsubishi.

"Celgro, eh?" Larry pondered.

"Yep."

"Interesting."

"So, what first?"

"I reckon we go home and start doing a little research."

"Agreed."

Did I mention all five of us lived together, in a medium-sized house in the outer-western suburbs? Well, we do. It sucks sometimes, but in times like this, it can be handy.

Within an hour I was curled up at home in front of my laptop. The Internet was always a good place to start, when looking for information. Behind me and in other rooms, I could hear Larry on the phone to Celgro, looking to set up a meeting with Dobson, Graham and Tamara discussing a schedule for watching Dobson, and Daniel making himself some lunch.

"Daniel, stop stuffing your face, we've got work to do!" I called.

"Aw, shut up Bec, you ain't my mother, you can't tell me what to do!"

"Yeah I can, Danny boy, so get to work!"

He rattled off a string of expletives in my general direction. I laughed and went back to my computer.

I kept finding general company information for Celgro, but nothing more informative. There were so many sites out there dedicated to Celgro and it's research, my brain ached at the idea of looking through them all. But an interesting listing popped up on my screen.__

**_Secret of the Month (http://www.conspiracy.org/secret/jan2011/)_**__

_This month's best-kept secret is illegal genetic manipulation by the country's largest medical research company, Celgro. Sources inside Celgro say that the project, codenamed Stella, goes far beyond the reaches of the First Mitochondria Law…_

"Hey guys!" I called. "You might want to take a look at this…"

In five seconds flat, four extra faces were crowded around the 14-inch screen. At these close quarters, I could smell the salami in Daniel's sandwich, it was making me hungry. I tried to ignore it.

"Well what are you waiting for?" Larry said impatiently. "Go into the rest of the article!"__

_The First Mitochondria Law was passed at the end of the war, in 2009. It states that genetic manipulation relating to the enhancement of mitochondria to form "neo-mitochondria" is outlawed without exception._

_Mitochondria contain their own genetic code, independent from a cell's nucleus. Mitochondria are passed down through the maternal lines, and are the cell's source of energy by the process of cellular respiration…_

"Aw man, I don't need a biology lesson…" Daniel complained. I quickly scrolled down.__

_Files obtained from Celgro computers indicate that Project Stella is in direct violation of the First Mitochondria Laws. They are currently working on modifying mitochondria to create a completely new type of neo-mitochondria, dubbed super-mitochondria. The new super-mitochondria will be five times more powerful than neo-mitochondria, which are already themselves ten times more powerful than the mitochondria we all currently possess. The idea of that much power is mind-boggling._

_However, Celgro are programming special features into these new super-mitochondria. Rumor has it that owners of super-mitochondria will be docile, thoughtless. The power of independent thought, feeling or action will be entirely removed._

_And what is all this tampering leading to? A new race of human being. The new species, tentatively named the Golem species, will all possess super-mitochondria. They will apparently be no threat to the human race, because they will be remotely controlled by an operating team. Their purpose will be to act as slaves, or manual labourers, doing the jobs that no human can or will do._

_The integrity of the idea is being seriously questioned by your conspiracy.org correspondant. We all know the power of neo-mitochondria, we saw it in the war. Neo-mitochondria were created by a freak accident, and we were all glad to see their complete destruction during the Battle of Camperdown. Is this really a good idea? Only time will tell…_

We read the article silently. There was more, but it was irrelevant. 

"Well," Graham remarked, "this sure is some interesting information."

"But is it true? I mean, come on, this is www.conspiracy.org here, not exactly a reliable source."

"Ah, true, but it's a start. It's an idea. So Celgro's in the market for a race of slaves?"

"Why?"

"And more importantly, who's paying them to do it?"

"Good question. Who would pay a medical research company to create a new breed of human being?"

"A very sick and twisted son of a bitch, that's for sure."

"You got that right."

"This is going to be a repeat of the war, I can tell."

That was Tamara, sitting over in the corner. Four pairs of eyes turned her way.

"Bec, you know the power of neo-mitochondria. Could it be remotely controlled?"

I shuffled in my seat.

"I don't know, I never really thought about it. You guys know I can't really use them properly, I can't utilize their full power."

"But you can still use them, right? JC taught you how. Give us an example of what they can do."

She really put me on the spot. I looked around, searched for something to use in my demonstration. Grinning slyly, I concentrated hard and felt my neo-mitochondria start producing some serious energy. When I had enough energy, I released it. Across the room, Daniel jerked suddenly before dropping to the floor, as if he'd been hit over the head with a frying pan. 

Larry laughed. "Nice. You knocked the guy out."

"Yeah, I know. He knows I don't really mean to hurt him, though. He'll come to in a second, I only hit him with a little frying pan."

"Frying pan??"

Down on the floor, Daniel groaned. I giggled.

"See, I told you so."

Tamara was leaning forward in her chair, her curiosity overcoming her.

"But what sort of power could you have if you knew how to use them properly?"

"I could probably wipe out this house in a split second with an inferno shot."

"No, I'm talking in terms of damage to a person."

"Well… you've heard of liberation, right?"

She paused.

"You could liberate?"

"No. I can't. With the right training, maybe. But at my current strength, no."

"So if neo-mitochondria can give a person or a _thing_ the power to completely change their form, do you really think it could be controlled?"

Everyone was silent.

"I don't think so." Graham spoke up. He was deep in thought. "But what I do know is we're going to stop them, before they make any stupid mistakes like creating a race of people that could be the downfall of human existence."

"Agreed."

More silence.

"Well, guys, it's back to business. We need to find out if this is really what they're doing, and get some proof. Daniel, call Munro and tell him what we found."

"Sheesh, they don't call you team leader for nothing. I just got knocked out by neo-mitochondria, but you want me to keep working. Yeah, ok, as soon as I finish my lunch, I'll call him."

"Good. Bec, keep looking for information. Graham, you start the stakeout on Dobson. Tamara, get on the blower to whoever you can to get some more information on Dobson, that profile told us jack."

"Yes boss…"__

Everyone departed, leaving me alone with my laptop, still on conspiracy.org. I was lost in thought. Neo-mitochondria were _supposed _to be have been destroyed during the Battle of Camperdown, yes, it was true. I was the only specimen left alive. I shivered at the thought.

"Hello… earth to Bec…"

It was Larry, sitting in the chair next to mine. I snapped back into focus.

"Did you get through to Dobson?"

"Yeah, I did, and of course he denied any knowledge of Project Stella. I set up a meeting with him though, I'll be meeting with him this afternoon, at four."

I sat silently.

"Find anything else out about Celgro?"

"Nah, not yet."

"Here, give me the computer. Let's put my hacking skills to the test."

I was shocked. "You can't do that! We've got full investigatory powers, but we can't go romping through their computers! Not without a warrant!"

He winked. "Shhhh, no-one needs to know, if I find anything, I can just say I found it on the web. Now give me the computer."

I handed it over.

Straight away, he went to work, fingers flying over the keyboard. I had no idea what he was doing, computer hacking wasn't really my thing. I liked to stay on the legal side of the law, thank you very much. Within minutes he stopped. I craned my neck to see what was on the screen. It was a Celgro company memo.__

_From: Stephen Dobson_

_To: All members of Project Stella_

_Subject: Conspiracy.org's Secret of the Month_

_It has come to my attention that someone in this project has been leaking information onto the internet. (See http://www.conspiracy.org/secret/jan2011/) _

_I am investigating the matter, and when I find who is responsible he or she will be removed from the project and charged with treason._

_S.  __Dobson_

"Heh, that confirms it."

"Yeah, but it's not proof of what they're doing out there."

"Why not? We've got the memo, and the page in reference."

"It's not proof. Plus it doesn't answer the question of who's hired Celgro to create the so-called Golem. I'll keep looking."

I left him there looking, and I went to find Daniel. He was in his room, still on the phone to Munro. I sat beside him, and listened to his side of the conversation. Argument, really.

"Have you even listened to a word I've been saying?… They're creating slaves!… What?… The NCA said that?… For real? Why?… That's a load of horse shit, sir…"

I winced. 

"I don't care what they said, we need to check this out!… No, I don't see!… Fine." He sighed. "I'll tell the rest of 7A. Expect a call from Larry in about five minutes. He's gonna be pissed."

And he hung up on Munro.

"Yikes, what was all that about?"

"You won't believe this…"

"Tell me!"

"The NCA have dropped the investigation."

"What?? Why?"  
"That's what I asked."

"Yeah, and you also told him his reasoning was a load of horse shit. I can't wait to hear it."

"That's just it, he didn't give me a reason. He just said the order had come from higher up to cancel the investigation, and it was his job to let us know we were off the case."

"That's weird…"

"I know! Ah well, we're off the case. Let's party."

I punched him playfully in the arm.

"Be serious, you dud, if they're dropping the case, it means they're not investigating Celgro anymore. Okay, list some reasons why they would stop the investigation, just like that."

He laid back on his bed.

"Okay, one. The info about Celgro was false, they're not really experimenting with genetic manipulation."

"We proved that one false already."

"Two. The Mitochondria law has been changed since this morning, so they're completely legit now."

"I doubt it."

"Three. Someone's paying the NCA not to investigate Celgro."

I zeroed in on that one. It sent a chill down my spine.

"That's some idea you've got there."

"Hey, I was only joking."

"But you could be right."

"Yeah right, like the NCA would take a bribe."

"I'm not thinking of a bribe."

There was a piece of information missing from this picture, something that would make it all fit. I knew what it was, but I couldn't think of it. Suddenly, it clicked. Everything made sense. Scary sense. I jumped to my feet.

"Get everyone together. I've worked it out."

"Worked what out?"

"Just get everyone together!"


	4. Chapter 3: The Plot Thickens

**CHAPTER 3**

THE PLOT THICKENS 

I paced around the lounge room, waiting for everyone to get in. It all made perfect sense, how could I have missed it? Daniel and Tamara were on the couch, mucking around, poking each other. Larry was still in his seat, still hunting down information. Graham was missing. I kept pacing.

"Sheesh, I just pull up outside this guy Dobson's house, all the way out in Pakenham mind you, and I get a call, telling me to come straight back. What, have we solved the case already? What's going on?"

"Sit down Graham, Bec's worked something out, we were waiting for you to get back."

"What, I couldn't have just listened to her tell you guys on speaker phone?"

"Nope. You had to be here. Now sit down."

He sat. I kept pacing.

"There was something bugging me before, when Daniel found out we were being pulled off the investigation."  
"What??"

That was Graham. I'd forgotten he hadn't been here.

"Oh, yeah. Daniel called Munro, told him what we found. Munro told him the NCA had cancelled the investigation. So the NCA is prepared to let the case go, let Celgro do all the law-breaking they want. Something about that wasn't right.

It hit me, when I remembered the Celgro company memo Larry dug up on the computer. Larry, what did the memo say?"

"It said that information had been leaked onto the net, and whoever was responsible for it would be charged with… oh, I get it… no way, that's impossible…"

"What's so impossible about it?"

He only shook his head. I stopped pacing, and turned to face everyone.

"The memo said whoever was responsible would be charged with _treason_. So somehow the government's involved. Coupled with the sudden and bizarre cancellation of the entire investigation, I'd say it's a fair bet that the Australian government are the ones paying Celgro for their research."

Tamara gasped. Daniel starting swearing his head off. Graham was shaking his head.

"Nuh-uh, no way, you're kidding right?"

"No, I'm not."

"But… you're talking about the _government creating a new breed of human!"_

"Can you come up with a better explanation?"

He thought for a moment.

"Maybe the NCA received some new information, so they think Celgro's all clean."

"But Daniel rang them just before, told Munro all the stuff we found, and they didn't want to listen."

He fell silent. Larry was nodding grimly.

"It makes perfect sense. But damn…"

He jumped up and started pacing around the room, talking more to himself than anyone else. I took his seat.

"Okay, let's think about this. We have to prove it, first of all. The use of the word treason pretty much explains everything, when you think about it, but we need some rock-solid proof. Say we do find proof, which we will, I'll sit at that damn computer until I find some. How the hell are we supposed to stop Celgro if they've got the government behind them? Shit, this _is going to turn into a second Mitochondria war, we can't stop the government, and the government don't realize the full power of neo-mitochondria… they're crazy… we're in big trouble, guys, big trouble…"_

"Larry, sit down." That was me.

"No, I have to work this out."

"Larry, _sit down_."

He sat. Silence ensued.

"Is there any chance of us dropping this investigation?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, so the NCA isn't investigating anymore, are we going to keep looking into it, and try and stop Celgro?"

"Yes. Oh, yes."

"Of course."

"Hell yeah."

"Okay."

I checked my watch. It was 2.45pm.__

"Well, here's what we need to do next. Larry, you've got the meeting with Dobson at four, yeah?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well if you're going into the city, you're going to have to get going fairly soon. Daniel, you can keep hacking into Celgro's stuff, see what else you can find, see if you can come up with some conclusive proof that the government is actually behind this whole operation. Tamara, call Munro back, use those feminine persuasive devices you have in abundance to see if you can learn anything new." 

She poked her tongue out at me. I kept talking.

"Graham, surveillance on Dobson is pretty pointless if he's going to be meeting Larry. Take the profiles Munro gave us, see if you can find some names of other members of Project Stella. Start looking into them."

"What about you, Bec?"

"I need a break. A nap, more like it. I'm stuffed."

"Sheesh, you knock _me_ out, but then _you_ get to laze around sleeping all day." 

"Heh, there was nothing personal in that and you know it."

"Yeah, but still…"

Daniel shrugged his shoulders. 

"You watch what you're saying buddy, or I'll dish up a lot worse. Oh, you know I will."

I grinned cheekily while everyone got going. When they were all gone, I walked slowly to my room and flopped down on my bed. I tried to relax, but I couldn't. I was wound up too tight. My mind was clicking, clicking, clicking, it wouldn't stop and give me a moments break. All this talking about neo-mitochondria and Golems had brought up some nasty memories. From the war. Jade Columbia, my old friends. I didn't think about them often, and when I did, they weren't particularly nice thoughts. I wondered if they were still alive. Their bodies were never found after the Battle of Camperdown, although not a lot of bodies were. I had a sneaking suspicion they were alive, although I had no idea how it could be possible. I remembered some stuff JC did during the war. I remembered a lot of things I hadn't thought about in a long time. 

My thought processes were interrupted when I detected someone standing in the doorway. I rolled over to see who it was. It was Daniel.

"Huh? I thought you were working."

"I couldn't concentrate. So I thought I'd come check on you."

He crossed the room and sat at the end of my bed.

"You seemed kinda dazed before."

"I know."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

For a moment we sat in silence.

"I've been thinking about JC."

"Those bastards?" Daniel hated JC even more than I did. 

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"It's just all this stuff with neo-mitochondria today, it's got me remembering the war and everything that happened… JC… Talleja… the Battle of Camperdown…"

"Don't think about it, Bec. Don't. The war is over. Jade Columbia are all dead. It's all over, forget the past, concentrate on the future."

"But it's so hard… I keep remembering what they did…"

"Don't think about what they did. They committed crimes against humanity, that's all there is to it."

"Daniel… you were there… you know the circumstances."

"The circumstances don't matter. What they did was wrong."

"I know… sometimes I wonder what they're doing right now…"

He turned to face me in surprise.

"Bec, they're dead. You know they're dead. What are you talking about, what they're doing right now?"

"I get the feeling sometimes that they're alive. That they survived."

"They didn't, and you know it."

"I know…"

A long silence. I was too deep in thought to notice.

"Well, I'd better get back to work. Got information to dig up, projects to stop, governments to take down, you know, the usual. Get some rest, Bec. Try not to think about JC. I'll be back to check on you soon, I promise."

And he left the room.

I lay there for a while, trying to think of ways to stop Project Stella. I tried not to think of JC. It didn't work.

Eventually, I had had enough. Zombie-like, I got up and walked straight out of the house. Graham and Tamara called after me, but I just kept walking. I drove my yellow Suzuki Ignis to the local shopping centre, where I decided to drown out all my depressing thoughts in one very large iced coffee. 

Sitting there, at the shopping centre, with my iced coffee in my hands, thinking of nothing but the war. The war had been over for nearly a year and a half. Life had returned to normal. The Liberal government had retaken control of the country. Little remained of the war period. Both Highpoint and the Leura had been completely destroyed. Yet I still reminisced. Over time, I became vaguely aware of someone behind me calling out my name. It was a familiar voice, but I couldn't place it.

I turned around, searching for whoever was calling out.

"Rebecca… Rebecca!"

All of a sudden I recognized the voice and my mouth went dry. My heart skipped a beat, and I spotted him. He was standing just a few metres away, but there were people milling all around in between us. I panicked, and I started searching the crowd around me. I saw no-one else familiar. The owner of the voice slowly approached me, and even at a distance I could see a glimmer of hatred in his eyes. Hatred, but there was something else there too. Was that… excitement? Anticipation? Nervousness? I couldn't tell.

After an eternity it seemed, he stood beside me, and he took a seat at my table. I had completely lost the ability to speak. The man smiled, but it was a cold smile.

"Of course, you remember me, Bec, you know who I am, right?" 

"Ph-Ph-Phil?"

Phil raised one arm and clicked his fingers, suddenly four other familiar faces appeared around the table. I took each of them in in turn. Matt… Buffy… Brett… Mike… the Jade Columbia. They were all here. All alive. I fainted.


	5. Chapter 4: Return of the Jade Columbia

**CHAPTER 4**

**RETURN OF THE JADE COLUMBIA**

"Rebecca… Rebecca! Get up!"

Cold hands slapping my face, dragging me back into consciousness.

My first thought was that it had just been a dream, a nightmare. I would wake up, in my bed, none of this would have happened. Celgro wouldn't have been paid by the government to create super-mitochondria, and JC wouldn't be alive.

I opened my eyes. I looked around. Phil was standing over me, poised to strike me again.

I flinched, I thought he was going to hit me. Only then did I notice that my hands were cuffed to the bed I was lying on. I craned my neck to look down - my feet were shackled as well. I froze.

"Hey, guys!" Phil called. "She's awake!"

In moments, the other four had joined us in the room. They all took seats in a semi-circle around me. I felt really vulnerable, cuffed in the middle. For a while, no-one spoke.

"Well, Bec," Matt said at last, "we meet again."

There were only two words in my mind. I spat them out with as much force as I could muster.

"How? _Why?_"

Matt stood up, walked over to me, and just stared at me. After a moment or two, he reached down and ran his hand along my hair, my cheek, my neck. I had the sickening feeling he could snap my neck in two, if he wanted to.

"I can't tell you how, Rebecca," he said slowly. "I can't tell you how we survived your treachery. You betrayed us, Bec, you know it. And now you're completely at our mercy. But I can tell you why we're here. We're here for the same reason you are. Project Stella."

I blinked. How did they know about Project Stella?

"Ah, I can see you're surprised. We haven't been sitting idly by this last year and a half, you know. We've been watching over everything. Watching over the NCA, all the rumours of genetic manipulation. We've been watching over you, and your little 7A friends. Yes, we know all about your new little group. We know everything you've been doing."

I managed to find my voice.

"Are you… going to kill me?"

He was surprised at my question. He smiled, although not too sincerely.

"No. Believe me, when this is over, we'll deal out what you deserve for betraying your friends. But for now, we wish to enlist your help."

"Help?"

"In stopping Project Stella."

There was a long pause. I still couldn't believe they were alive. I mean, I'd entertained the idea, in my mind, but I never fully believed it.

"Don't get us wrong, Bec. We still know which side we're on. We know our full capabilities. You don't. If I wanted to, I could have you screaming and begging for your life right now. You'd be begging to be killed, simply to escape the torture I could put you through."

His voice tightened. He was having trouble controlling his anger, I could tell. I shuddered.

"We know our power. And we know that very few deserve to have power like ours. This new threat, the super-mitochondria, it makes us redundant. Our power is nothing in comparison. You don't understand the power of super-mitochondria, oh no."

He bent down and started whispering in my ear, so only I could hear him.

"You have no idea how much I'd like to see you screaming in pain right now. I could do it, too. I have power the likes of which you've never seen. And I'm not the only person who wants to see you die slowly. But we have bigger fish to fry. And if it means co-operating with you and your little band of juveniles to do it, we will."

"Let me free. Let me go and I'll think about it."

"I think you're over-estimating our hospitality. We're willing to co-operate, even help you, I know you want to disband Project Stella nearly as much as we do. But don't think for a second we can't do it alone. You've got two choices. One, you help us stop Stella. Two, you don't leave this room alive."

I swallowed hard. There was no choice at all, really.

"I'll help you. But I need to talk to 7A, persuade them to help you. They won't, not unless I say so."

I had said the magic words. Instantly all five of them turned friendly. Buffy even offered me a smile.

"Well, that's what we were hoping to hear."

He concentrated for only a moment. The cuffs around my wrists and ankles melted like butter.

"You're free to go. From now, we're all working together, on the same side. You know how it all works, Bec. It's going to be just like old times. And once again, the Jade Columbia will reign supreme, just like we were trained to do."

I could practically see the stars in his eyes as he spoke. I hadn't moved, except to sit up. I was too frozen with fear. I knew that their cruel words were not empty, I had seen them at work. I had heard the screams of those they had tortured. Their threats were not to be taken lightly. 

"Hey, Bec, what are you waiting for?" 

It was Brett. Without me even noticing, Mike, Matt, Phil and Buffy had left the room. I shook my head to clear out the cobwebs.

"N-nothing."

"Well, then, get back to your place and get talking to 7A. Matt said he wants a group meeting, all ten of us, as soon as you can arrange it. He's completely serious about us working together. Just imagine that, the best team of yesterday and the best team of today, working together for one cause. We're unstoppable. Together we can take down Celgro, and the government. I know we can, Bec, I know we can."

"S-sure, I'll get going now."

As soon as I had the energy to leave the room, I knew where I was. I was in our old place, JC's old house, the one we had all lived in before everything all went wrong. I shook my head again. This was all so surreal. I could almost believe the last four years had never happened, and JC were together again, working on the side of good. Almost. Matt's threats still rang in my head.

I drove back to our house, my real house, the 7A house, in a daze, almost getting into several crashes on the way. Distractedly, I checked the clock on the dashboard. Almost six. How long had I been unconscious for? It had been just after three when I left the house. What had happened in between?

The house was quiet when I returned. Not just quiet, it was empty. No-one was home. Still trembling, I picked up the phone and called Larry's mobile.

"Bec! Hey! I've been wondering where you were. Tamara called me before, in hysterics, saying you'd just walked out and disappeared. Where are you?"

"I'm at home… where are you?"

"On the way home. Say, where's everyone else?"

"I don't know… listen, we need to have a serious talk."

"Uh-oh, sounds ominous. What about?"

"Are you sitting down?"

"Yeah, I'm driving down the Princes Freeway, so I kinda have to be."

"Well pull over then."

A couple of seconds later, I heard him pull over to the side of the road.

"Okay, what was so important that I had to focus on?"

Suddenly, childishly, I burst into tears.

"My god, Bec, what's happened?"

"I don't know how to say this… without sounding insane… but JC… they're alive…"

"_What???_"

"They're alive… I was at the shopping centre today… I saw Phil… and the rest… oh god, they're alive…"

My words were making no sense even to myself.

"Christ… those guys were listed as dead…"

"That's not all…"

"There's _more?_"

I related the story of what had happened, complete with death threats.

"They're insane."

"We have to help them, they seem on the level… at least, they did after I agreed to help them…"

"I don't like the sound of this, I don't."

"Neither do I… but do we have a choice?"

"No. You said it yourself, their threats are not to be taken lightly. I don't want you to end up dead, I couldn't live with myself if I let that happen to you."

I heard him take a deep breath.

"You said they want a meeting? All ten of us?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"As soon as I can arrange it."

"Great, just great… I'll call the others, see where they are. Call JC, set the meeting for tomorrow morning, whatever time they want. I'll see you when I get home."

"Okay… bye."

No sooner had I hung up the phone than my mobile phone rang. It was Matt.

"Great, tomorrow morning it is. We'll be over at your place at ten, and we won't be late. See ya then, Becky!"

And just like that, he was gone.

I started at my mobile phone in disbelief. What on earth had I just gotten us into?


	6. Chapter 5: An Uneasy Alliance

**CHAPTER 5**

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

I could hear Daniel approaching the house long before I could see him.

"Those JC freaks… I can't believe they're alive… so Bec was right all along… and we actually have to work with them… this is insane… I won't do it! They're nothing but a pack of cold-blooded killers! No! I won't!"

Graham was out there with him, trying to talk reason. I wouldn't have bothered, it was a pointless exercise.

"Bec, thank God you're safe… when I heard those bastards had you, I thought you were done for… thank God…"

As soon as Daniel walked in the door, he hugged me, very obviously relieved.

"But working with JC? What's with that? I mean, Larry told me we're meeting them tomorrow morning, which I'm not exactly jumping for joy about. But he didn't tell me much else. What happened today, in the space of the last four hours?"

I told him the story as well, leaving out Matt's whispered threats of torture. I didn't want to think about those.

He was quiet.

"Shit."

It was a quiet night overall. We were all busy coming to terms with what had happened in the last twelve or so hours. Me, I didn't sleep a wink. I lay, tossing and turning all night. I thought a lot about JC, though that was pretty understandable, I think. They were alive! I couldn't come to grips with it. And so friendly, now that we'd agreed to help them. Maybe they'd mellowed out in the last eighteen months…

At four am, sick of just laying there thinking, I got up to get a drink. Vodka was preferable, though I was happy to settle for milk. Tamara was sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hey, what's up, Tam?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Obviously. Now tell me why."

She fidgeted nervously.

"I guess… with this whole Jade Columbia thing that's just come up… I'm feeling left out."

"Left out? Why?"

"You and Daniel, you both have history with JC. You know them. Graham and Larry are involved as well, because all you guys knew each other at the time of the war. But me, I just joined this group a year ago. All I know of JC is what I read in the papers, what I saw in the war. For you guys, it's personal. For me… I'm just feeling weird about the whole thing."

"Believe me, you don't want to know JC like we know them, me especially. If only I could forget what I've seen… what I've seen them do… but I can't."

Call me stupid, but only then did I notice the shot glass and the half-empty bottle of Cowboys on the table.

"Tamara, you're drunk. Go to bed."

"No. I can't sleep. Being alone with my thoughts is depressing right now, so I'll sit here and drink quietly."

"Fine, do whatever you want."

Glass of milk in hand, I headed back to my room. I still didn't sleep.

Everyone was awake bright and early, and chattering nervously. At ten o'clock on the button I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, trying to tame my hair. It was a difficult task normally, but was made even harder by the fact that my hands were trembling.

The doorbell rang. I felt sick to my stomach. I could hear Daniel answering the door, welcoming JC inside. Everything sounded so… strained. I forced myself to leave the comfort zone of my room.

Everyone was seated in our lounge room, 7A on the couches, JC on the floor. I took a seat in my armchair. For a moment no-one spoke. 

"Look, I can see this is a bit uncomfortable," Buffy said, breaking the ice.

"You think?" replied Daniel, sarcastically.

"I don't see why this has to be so uncomfortable…"

"You'll have to forgive us, we're not accustomed to being in the company of a pack of murderers."

"Graham!" I was shocked.

"Well, it's the truth."

"Look," Mike interrupted. The voice of reason. "I know this is kinda awkward, but it doesn't have to be. I know we all have our differences, and there's a fair bit of history involved here. Why can't we just put that history aside, and work together on this?"

"Because you might decided to betray everyone again! Turn around and support Stella, or something!"

"Dammit, we explained this all to Bec yesterday, why we're helping here. Didn't she tell you?"

"Yeah, I told them, but I also told them how you threatened to kill me."

The whole situation was breaking down fast. Everyone was bickering, squabbling, arguing with increasing intensity. Daniel and Phil looked like they were about to start throwing punches at each other.

"Everyone! SHUT UP!"

Tamara had finally broken her silence. And she picked an opportune time to do so. Everyone quietened down.

"Listen, this is going to get _nowhere if we sit around arguing! We have to work as a team, and we have to start now. For all we know, Celgro is perfecting the Golem as we speak, we have no time to waste! Now, you guys can sit here bickering, or we can actually get some work done! What do you say?"_

Her words had quite a surprising effect. I felt ashamed at my actions, the fact I was preoccupied with a personal issue when there was so much at stake. I got the distinct impression that everyone else was feeling the same thing.

"Are we all going to start co-operating now? Are we over our little debate?"

Slowly, everyone started nodding. I could see Matt trying to hide a smile. That, itself, put a smile on my face. 

"Alright," she continued. "First things first. Back to the basics."

She turned to face the JC members.

"Just who the hell are you guys, anyway? I mean, I know you're the legendary Jade Columbia, I reckon everyone in Australia knows you guys. I think I know all your names. But which one of you is which?"

She was completely serious with her question. It completely broke the tension, and did the impossible - made us all laugh. Matt stood up and started introducing them, and I silently ran through mental dossiers as he did so.

"I'm Matt," he began. Matt was twenty-six now, and stood five foot ten. He had short brown hair, and brown eyes that, in the good days, always seemed to be smiling. He had been our team leader in JC, and we had all respected him. He had been a good team leader, even though he did brood a bit when it came to making tough decisions.

"This is Buffy," he continued. Buffy was the oldest person in the room, a whole twenty-seven. She was short, just over five feet tall, with fiery red hair and clear blue eyes, which still seemed to be permanently hidden behind a pair of reflective sunglasses. Buffy and I had been good friends before the war. But something had gone wrong. Even when we were still friends, I had felt like I hardly knew her at all.

"That's Phil, over there," he said, pointing. Phil was also twenty-seven, with an Asian appearance, due to his South Korean background. Black hair, hazel eyes, and always those wire-rimmed glasses. He still looked like he wanted to punch Daniel, which was fair enough because most people who knew Daniel wanted to beat the hell out of him. 

"That's Brett," he said. Brett was the member of JC I knew the best. I had known him since I was ten years old, had grown up being close friends with him. He was twenty-seven, with dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was tall, extraordinary tall, nearly six foot five. He had joked to me once that the reason he was so tall was because he had wanted to be a jockey when he was growing up. So many memories came flooding into my mind as I stared at him then.

"And lastly, that's Mike," he concluded. Mike was the joker of the group, he had a real sense of humour. No time was too serious for Mike to make a joke. Most of the time, it was all good, but sometimes his comments were out of place. He was twenty-six, with black hair and hazel eyes. He was clever too, his quick thinking had saved my life on more than one occasion. It had also taken more than one life. I tried not to think about that.

Almost instantly, all the animosity in the room had disappeared. It was like we were just a big group of friends. I shook my head in amazement, it felt so surreal. 

"Well," Phil said. "Now that that's out of the way, let's talk about why we're here. Project Stella."

Everyone sobered up fast.

"What have you guys learnt so far?"  
"Well, we've only been on the case since yesterday morning…"

Larry, our unofficial spokesman.

"… but we've found out some pretty scary things. Like the fact that Celgro are being paid off by the government."

JC were nodding. They had already known. 

"I met with Dobson, the guy in charge, yesterday. He of course, denied the existence of the project. But they do have a team of staff _named Stella, and the guy was thick enough to give me a list of their names. So now we know who's working on the project. That's all we've got so far."_

Brett stood up and started making a speech of what JC knew. It reminded me very strongly of a TV spy show, both sides trading information.

"Well, we've been onto Celgro for a while now. You see, we've been doing the same job unofficially that you guys do officially. We can give you complete profiles of everyone involved with project Stella, including the team members you were given the names of yesterday. Celgro have been working on Stella for a while now, believe it or not. They started investigating neo-mitochondria just after the end of the war, but only in the last few months have they been working on super-mitochondria. They were approached by the government in July last year, in particular by a man named James Nicol. Nicol's the Liberal party's minister for biotechnology. We've tried to contact him, but to no avail. To sum it all up, Nicol promised Stephen Dobson, the CEO of the Melbourne branch of Celgro, fifteen billion dollars to be paid out over ten years, plus ten percent of any money made using the super-mitochondria technology. We're talking some serious cash here. Dobson accepted the deal, and formed the Stella team. Almost straight away, Dobson set up shop with Stella in a warehouse out in Pomborneit…"

"Wait," I interrupted. "Pomborneit?"

"Yeah," Brett replied.

"The Pomborneit out in Corangamite shire?"

"Yeah, I think that's the one."

"But that place is less than twenty kilometres from Camperdown."

"And your point is…?"

"The entire Corangamite shire was declared a no-go zone after the war, due to the lasting effects of the device used to end the Battle of Camperdown."

Eight heads turned to face me simultaneously, and eight pairs of eyes were glaring at me. I winced. So soon after reuniting with Jade Columbia, I had brought up a seriously taboo topic. Everyone in the room knew what I meant when I mentioned the device, technically known as the Neo-Mitochondria Disruption Device. Well, everyone except Tamara.

"Huh? What device?"

Graham was giving her meaningful looks from across the room, telling her to shut up. Eventually, she got the message, and changed the topic.

"So, Corangamite was placed off-limits?"

"Yeah. Every town in the shire was evacuated, every one in between Colac and Warrnambool. That's nearly fifty small towns, including Woorndoo, Purrumbete, Stoneyford and Terang. For the next ten years, you can't even drive through the shire without a permit. If Stella is stationed out in Pomborneit, that's got some serious implications."

"You know, we never even thought about that."

Brett had taken over the meeting again. I remembered how he was a natural leader, and how he had gotten so angry when Matt was made head of JC, all those years ago.

"We haven't been out to Pomborneit yet to scope out the place, due to all the travel restrictions on the area. We never even put two and two together to wonder why there were such restrictions. I mean, the six of us saw the device, felt the effects, and survived. All this talk about lasting effects is crap."

The device was mentioned again. I winced again, and slid down further in my seat. In the chair next to me, Larry reached out and placed a hand on my arm. It reassured me enormously. I sat up straighter, forgot about the tension of the war and focussed on the problem at hand, here and now.

"So, just before we found out the NCA had put you guys on the case, we had two options on the table. One, we were going to get our butts out to Pomborneit, somehow avoiding all the roadblocks, and measure up the warehouse. Or two, we were going to go in to Celgro HQ, in Parkville, bust in there and see what we can find."

"Wait, Parkville?" Me again. I was full of dumb questions today.

"Yeah, Parkville." Buffy gave me a crooked smile. "You know your beloved Melbourne University? Celgro now use the old Genetics building as their headquarters, and biology students can do their work experience there."

So it had been a few years since I had visited my old university. But Celgro? In the tiny, three-story old Genetics building? Something about that seemed wrong.

Larry spoke up beside me.

"I don't mean to sound patronizing, but you guys were going to bust into HQ? How exactly were the five of you going to do such a thing?"

Across the room, Mike's eyes were flashing dangerously.

"For starters, there's six of us, not five. You're forgetting that Bec's a member of JC too. And to tell the truth, you don't know what the hell we can do. Sure, we've been out of the game for a year and a half. But we can take on anything, anywhere, don't you forget that, don't forget it for a second."

"Mike." Immediately his gaze shifted from Larry to me. "I'm not a member of JC anymore, I work with 7A now."

It seemed like my words echoed through the room for an eternity. All the previous joviality had been replaced with tension yet again.

Matt stood up. He was calm on the outside, but his voice was pure ice.

"Fine. Have things your way. We'll get inside Celgro, and we'll do it alone. I told you before, we don't need your help, not for a second. In a few days, we'll go, we'll retrieve as much info as we can about the project. But seeing as you guys are still in the picture, you can take other option. Get out to Pomborneit. Investigate. We'll be back in a week, same time, same place. If you need to reach us for any godforsaken reason, Bec knows how to contact us. We'll be seeing you then."

He snapped his fingers, and like clockwork, all five of them rose and walked out of our house in single file. I heard them talking as they made their way back to Phil's Pathfinder, heard them climbing into the car, heard them drive away at well over the posted speed limit.

A sort of stunned silence settled over us.

"Great bunch of people," Daniel remarked.

"I told you yesterday I was wondering what they were doing right now. Seems strange that only then I started thinking about them again, and here they were today."

"Man, we don't need their help, you know. We could have taken on Celgro by ourselves, we don't need them interfering and screwing around."

Graham was punching a cushion for emphasis as he spoke. Silently, Tamara reached over, took the pillow from his hands and hugged it tight, drawing her knees up beneath her chin.

"At least they left the Stella profiles behind," Larry commented. He picked them up and started flicking through them distractedly. I glanced at them for only a split second, but was startled when I saw a familiar name fly past.

"Hold it, stop for a second," I told Larry. "Go back a few pages… back a few more… that's it, right there. The name at the top of the page. Recognize it?"

For a moment, Larry looked confused. Then it dawned on him.

In big black letters at the top of the page, were two words that formed one of the most recognizable names in recent history.

"Mark Baker."


	7. Chapter 6: The Baker Connection

**CHAPTER 6**

**THE BAKER CONNECTION**

"This is some sort of joke, right? _He's involved in the project??"_

"Who?"

"If this profile is right, Mark Baker is the head biologist on the Stella project."

"_The_ Mark Baker? You've gotta be shitting me."

"Wait, who the hell is Mark Baker? And why do you guys all look like you've seen a ghost?"

Tamara again. Like I said, I liked her and everything, she just didn't have two brain cells to rub together. Graham spoke up to explain just who Mark Baker was.

"Mark Baker, and Rick Allen, were the developers of the cold fusion power plant. You remember all the hoopla over the new power plant a few years back? They designed it. The accident there was what sparked this whole neo-mitochondria mess in the first place. I thought these guys were pure physicists, turns out at least one of them has a biology background instead."

"Wait."

Daniel was sitting quietly on the couch, obviously thinking rapidly. I could practically hear the gears turning as he thought.

"So the same guy who accidentally creates neo-mitochondria shows up years later working on modifying the exact same substance?"

"No, that's not how it went."

I was like the walking encyclopaedia on the history of neo-mitochondria, and it was fair enough too, seeing as I owned a set of them.

"Baker designed the plant, but it was Talleja that caused the accident, creating neo-mitochondria."

"Was it?"

Larry was staring at me, one eyebrow raised. I fumbled to find the right words to explain.

"JC monitored Talleja for two years after the accident. He was the primary carrier of the neo-mitochondria, claimed he was the "chosen one", chosen to bear the burden of restarting the human race along the aligned path, using the gift of neo-mitochondria. Some mumbo-jumbo like that anyway, I can't remember the exact wording."

"But think about this one carefully. Did he ever specifically admit to causing the accident?"

I thought about it carefully. I thought about it for a long time. Eventually I gave the only answer I could.

"No."

Larry sat back in his chair, satisfied with my answer, still smirking like a Cheshire cat.

"Soooo, what you're saying is, for all you and JC knew back then, Baker designed the power plant to break down."

"What?"

"If Baker has a biology background, maybe he knew exactly what he was doing when he designed the plant. Maybe he knew, if it broke down at any stage, what the potential consequences would be, ie. the birth of neo-mitochondria."

Graham was nodding.

"That makes sense. Everything seems to be falling into place, and everything seems to be contradicting the norm. For seven years, everyone's been saying it was Talleja, Talleja, Talleja that started this whole mess. Now it seems it was Baker all along. Since the war, the official word is that JC were dead and buried. Now we know they're alive. When is it all going to stop??"

I glanced around the room. My gaze settled on Daniel, who was staring off into space, jaw set. I noticed he had one arm around Tamara, who was still protectively clutching Daniel's cushion.

"It's only gonna stop when we expose everyone and everything corrupt. When we take down the government, stop Celgro and the Stella project, find out the truth about what started the entire neo-mitochondria debacle once and for all. And we're going to do it, I know we are. We're going to work together with a team presumed dead, and we're gonna expose _everything."_

Just the sort of right motivational speech to set us all cheering. I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I sure as hell felt better about the whole thing.

"Now, what are we gonna do next?"

"Go to Pomborneit!"

"Yep, and check out the headquarters of the Stella project."

"Man, I can't believe JC are planning on breaking into Celgro."

"They did always have a slightly crazy streak."

"Slightly suicidal streak sounds more like it."

"Yeah, well, we'll hear from them soon, find out how their mission went."

How I wished I could take my words back. Because we did hear from them, and we heard all about their mission, far too soon…


	8. Chapter 7: Strike!

**CHAPTER 7**

**STRIKE!**

_Two nights later_

"Y'know, we're making some real progress here," I remarked.

It was late at night, almost 2am, and I was working with Larry on deciphering a document he had downloaded from Celgro's computers. Okay, so he was doing all the work, and I was sitting around watching, trying to help. Like I said before, computers weren't really my thing. 

"You mean, I'm making progress, and you're just refilling my coffee cup every now and then."

"Ouch, that hurt, really."

"Speaking of which, I could use another cup right about now."

"Coming right up. But don't get too comfortable with this, you hear, I'm not your maid or anything."

Suddenly, my mobile phone rang loudly, startling both of us. I checked the caller ID screen, and blinked in surprise.

"It's Mike," I told Larry.

"Serious? Well, you better answer it before it wakes the whole house up."

"Hello?"

In the background, wherever Mike was, I could hear gunfire. A lot of gunfire. I was momentarily surprised, I mean, gunfire isn't the first thing you expect to hear when you answer the phone in the middle of the night. But I had a sinking feeling that I knew exactly where Mike was, and what he was doing.

"Rebecca!" He was screaming to be heard. "We need your help! Shit, we're in deep trouble…!"  
"Where the hell are you?"

"At Celgro HQ… Parkville!" he replied.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"

"We walked into an ambush! Can you hear me? We walked into a fucking ambush!!"

I could hear screaming now, as well as gunfire. Someone had been hit, badly hit by the sounds of it.

"An ambush? How big?"

Larry's ears had pricked up by now. He moved closer so he could hear both sides of the conversation.

"God dammit, there's gotta be at least fifty of em, all armed to the teeth. And they're using some pretty heavy artillery, too… shit, Bec, you gotta help us! We're getting hemmed in!"

"What on earth can we do from here??"

"Do I have to spell everything out to you?? Are you _that out of practice with how things work??"_

Larry didn't need to be told twice. He was already out of his seat and out of the room, waking everyone up, getting them ready to go.

"Get down here! Bail us out! Shit, we can't hold out much longer, there's too many of them!"

"Give us fifteen minutes, we'll be there!"

"You better move your ass, Bec, there won't be much left of us in fifteen minutes!"

Ending the call, I ran to my room where I quickly dressed for combat. It was darn hot outside, over thirty degrees, so I didn't have to worry about keeping warm. Sticking my P229 in the waistband of my shorts, I loaded the pockets of my jacket with as many clips as I could carry, as well as a few medical supplies and the like. The adrenalin was flowing already, I was pumped and I hadn't even left the house. Wrapping a throat microphone around my neck, I ran downstairs, being careful not to trip and fall. Everyone else was already packed and ready to go. 

"We're taking the tank!" Graham called. The tank, or Graham's Ford station wagon, easily had the most oomph out of any of our cars, and it would get us there the fastest. Before I had even closed my car door, Graham had his foot on the accelerator and we were tearing down the street. I called out directions, I knew where we were going like the back of my hand. I prayed we'd arrive and find them still alive…


	9. Chapter 8: Prepare For The Fight Scene

**CHAPTER 8**

**PREPARE FOR THE FIGHT SCENE**

The streets were empty. We made pretty good time, seeing as Graham drove 150kmh the whole way. We were still three blocks away when we first heard the commotion coming from the old Genetics building. Pulling up to it with a squeal, I gasped. It was no longer the tiny, dilapidated buidling I had spent the better part of three years working in. It had been completely renovated, and it was now seven stories tall, and very imposing. 

Tearing my eyes away from the building, I called up Mike on my mobile phone and handed it to Larry. The gunfire coming from within the building was echoing through the handset as Mike answered his phone. I heard his screaming even at five paces.

"The fourth floor!" he cried. "We're on the fourth floor! Get up here, NOW!"

The fourth floor. In Japanese, the word for four, _shi, was the same as the word for death. I tried not to think of it as a bad omen. It didn't work._

Unholstering our weapons, we charged through the front doors. I knew the building. I made the initial set of directions.

"Graham, head to the left, take the second set of stairs next to the chem lab. Larry, to the right, there's a set of stairs behind a row of offices. Daniel, straight through, there's a fire escape outside the building. Tamara, you and me will take the two lifts up. Everyone got it?"

Everyone nodded, and silently disappeared. I tapped my microphone to turn it on, and four others did the same. I could hear heavy breathing as everyone ran.

"Guys, I don't know the floor plan of the fourth floor," I spoke quietly as the lift went up. "We're all gonna be on our own when it comes to rescuing JC."

I was startled by the sudden incessant beeping that came with more people linking into the microphone network. For a moment, there was silence. Then:

"I was hoping you'd trained these guys well, Bec."

"Matt!"

"Good to see you're still working to the same game plan as we always did."

"Well, now the odds are a little bit better, now it's ten of us against fifty of them."

"Uh, Bec? The bad guys called in reinforcements about five minutes ago. From what we can tell, there's a few hundred of them on their way here."

"Oh great…"

"And we know the floor plan about as well as you do. Basically, we're screwed. By the looks of things, this could turn out to be a suicide mission."

"Nuh-uh, no way guys."

Daniel, butting in like always.

"All ten of us are gonna make it out of this building alive, you hear? All ten. We're working together now. Wait, hold on a second, I'm at the fourth floor…"

I waited with nervous anticipation. Why was my lift so slow???

"Okay, I'm in a lecture theatre, I can see about ten hostiles at the front, firing at what looks to be a turned-over whiteboard halfway up an aisle. Who am I looking at?"

"Me and Buffy," came Brett's tired voice.

"Hey, the whiteboard's moving!"

"Yeah, we're kinda trying to get out of this place, you numbskull."

"Wait, I'm going to try something. We've been relying on guns until now, which is pretty dumb. Let's get some mitochondrial power going."

"Buffy, NO! If you do, they'll know who we are!"

"I don't care. We're pretty much stuck here, and if they've got reinforcements coming, we're toast!"

I could hear scuffling in the background. Then, Buffy screamed.

"Jesus Christ! It's not working! What the hell is going on here??"

"What??"

"I was going to try Apobiosis, but there was something… blocking it. What's happening? Why can't I do it?"

"Blocking it? What do you mean?"

"Try to cast something, anything, you'll see what I mean."

I figured I was good to try as well, so I tried to cast Antibody. Nothing happened. I tried again and again. I tried spell after spell. Nothing.

"Celgro are shifty bastards, aren't they?"

"If we survive this, there's going to be all hell to pay."

"How are they doing this? Stopping us from using our neo-mitochondria?"

"No idea."

Ding! My lift finally reached the fourth floor. Anticipating the worst, I climbed the walls of the lift, and held myself above the line of the opening doors. It was a clever move. As soon as the doors were fully open, the entire lift was shredded by about a thousand rifle rounds from the hallway.

"Damn! Tamara! They're outside the lifts! When your lift gets there, you gotta do something so you don't get hit!"

"Bec, you're in a lift?" It was Mike.

"Yeah."

"The one closest to the entrance, or the other one?"

"Closest to the entrance."

"Okay, the fifteen guys firing on your lift? They're just outside my office. They captured me a few minutes ago, they've got me chained to a damn wall in the office. See if you can get in here and break me out."

"I'll try. With no PE, this isn't going to be a fun fight."

"You're telling me."

I waited for a few moments, until there was relative silence outside the lift. There were still people there, talking and joking around. Something about "JC not being what they used to be."

Holding myself above the doors, I managed to find a compact in my pocket, complete with little handheld mirror. This thing proved useful sometimes. I held it just below the doors, and tilted it so I could see what was happening outside. A few of the guys must have walked away, because I could only count eight lounging around in the elevator hall. 

"No PE? None at all?"

"You got it, Bec."

"Not even using an auto-aim? Technically, it's not PE."

"I'm not sure, try it."

Hooking my feet over railings that circled the top of the lift, I swung down, so I was in full view of the eight soldiers. I concentrated hard, and felt the auto-aim channeling into the P229 in my hand. Quickly, I fired eight Spartans, then swung back up out of view. I heard six of the bullets hit their targets. Intense screaming followed.

"JC! The auto-aim is good to go! Use it!"

"Bec, you didn't hit them all! They're coming after you!"

I swung back down again, ignoring the pain in my ankles as they bent out of shape. Hanging upside down in the ruined lift, I fired again and again at the two soldiers charging towards me. They were firing too, firing rounds out of what looked like modified M4A1 rifles. One of the rounds came so close it flew through my hair, and the smell of singed hair filled the lift.

I kept missing with my shots, couldn't concentrate well enough to use the auto-aim, and my marksmanship was poor, mainly because I was hanging upside down. Within moments, the two guys were within arms length of the lift, and my clip was empty. They knew it too, and they grinned at me. Putting down their rifles, they made moves to disentangle me from the lift, to capture me. 

"Got room for one more in there, Mike?"

"Don't let them take you, dammit!"

I wriggled away from their outstretched arms, before I had an idea. Reaching back up, I grabbed onto the ledge above the elevator doors outside the lift. Releasing my feet, I took aim with them as gravity worked its magic, and I felt a sickening crunch as my heels connected with the soldiers' faces. They slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Dropping quietly to the floor, I surveyed the foyer I found myself in. There was an office directly in front of me, with plate-glass windows, and I could see Mike's grinning face.

"Nice acrobatics, Bec."

"Thanks."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get me out of here!"

Only then did I notice the cacophony of other voices in my ears. Larry's voice: "Everyone report in, what's happening, where do we stand?"

Daniel's voice: "I'm still in the lecture theatre. There's too many of them! I need back up here!" 

Buffy's voice, slightly strained: "Still stranded behind the whiteboard with Brett. Why don't you people carry hand grenades, anyway??" 

Brett's voice: "I'm gonna run out of ammo soon, dammit!"

Phil's voice: "Daniel, me and Larry are on the way to bail you out!" 

Tamara's voice, sounding a bit sheepish: "Am I on the right floor? There's no-one here…" 

Matt's voice: "I'm in the computer room, I've found some good stuff, someone get here and guard the damn door, it's gonna take a while for me to download all this." 

I didn't hear Graham's voice at all. I panicked.

"Graham! Where are you?"

For a moment all the voices were silent. And there was no response from Graham. I waited. Nothing.

"Bec, there's no time to waste! I'm sure he's fine. Just get me out of here!"

Snapping back into focus, I hurried into the office to set Mike free. Finding a set of keys on the desk, I tried key after key until I found one that unlocked the padlock holding Mike to the wall. He fell to the floor, groaning in pain.

"Damn, that hurt… where's my gun? We're gonna kick some ass now, let's go find Graham and the rest and get the hell out of here."

Spying his M93R across the room, he jumped up and grabbed it.

"_Now_ what are you waiting for? C'mon, let's go!" 


	10. Chapter 9: Let's Get Out Of Here!

**CHAPTER 9**

**LETS GET OUT OF HERE!!**

Chasing Mike down the hallway, I didn't know where he was going. I don't think he knew where he was going, either. But out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something. A wall plaque, detailing the layout of the floor.

"Mike, stop! There's a map here!"

"Oh crap, and I ran right past it."

"Good thing _someone's _paying attention around here."

"Okay, so where are we?"

I traced my finger along the map until I found the two lifts.

"There we are, right there."

"Didn't Daniel say he was trapped in a lecture theatre?"

"He was trying to get Brett and Buffy out of a lecture theatre."

"But which one?"

"The one by the fire escape, that's how he got there."

"Think we should go get them?"

"Larry and Phil already said they were heading that way."

"Okay, next idea."

"Matt said he wanted some protection in the computer room."

"Right… now where's that?"

He was staring intently at the map, but didn't have a clue what he was looking at. I burst out laughing.

"Typical male, not being able to read a map. Let's see… we've got three computer rooms… one just down the hall… two on the far side. Hey Matt, you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Bec."

"You got any idea which of these three computer rooms you're in?"

"It's not the one near the lifts, I know that much."

"Okay. We're on our way there now. Still need our help?"

He grumbled. I giggled.

"Well, I don't _need_ your help, but I'm pretty vulnerable here with my back facing the door. I'd like some protection, and quite frankly I'm surprised I haven't been blown to bits yet."

"Give us two minutes, and we'll be there."

We crept through the building, navigating through endless stark white hallways with offices branching out. Every so often I had a brief glimpse of someone hurrying away from us, and I heard a couple of people call out to each other. Everything combined together was eerie, was really creeping me out. 

The first computer room was open, and empty. We were just getting our bearings to head for the other room when we heard shouts from down the hall. I crept to the door, peeked out.

"Oh man, there's gotta be a dozen of 'em out there, all converging on the other room!"

"What?? Shit, this doesn't sound good."

"Matt! Matt! Get ready for a fight!"

"Will do, I'm armed and ready."

Still peeking out, I saw one soldier kick in the computer room door, and they all hurried into the room. Gunfire erupted from within.

"Uh, Bec? Mike? Where the hell are you?? Back me up here, dammit!"

"That's our cue. Let's go!"

Grabbing Mike's arm, we ran out of the room and down the hall.

It was a small-scale war in the second computer room. Peeking in the doorway, I saw Matt pinned behind a terminal, in the far corner of the room. Soldiers were firing at him from all around, the computer he had been using was completely destroyed. Our break came in the fact that all the soldiers were positioned around the room, all facing the corner, and no-one saw us standing in the doorway. 

The situation was steadily getting worse. Matt was firing haphazardly around the room, hoping to hit anyone, anything, to scare the guys off. I whispered into my microphone.

"Auto-aim."

"What?"

"Auto-aim. Use it, dammit!"

"Oh… of course!"

That always helped to stack the odds in our favour.

I took a shooting stance outside the doorway, and opened fire on the half-dozen soldiers closest to me. Without so much as a sound, three of them went down. Beside me, Mike took aim at another four or five, and several of them slithered to the floor in a pool of blood.

The soldiers that we had missed turned around and started firing at us. Quick as a flash, we ducked back out of the doorway, and bullets started peppering the wall opposite us.

"Got any bright ideas on what to do now, Mike?"  
"Nope, I'm fresh out."

"Bec, Mike, two of them are coming after you!"

"Oh great, not more physical combat. I hate this stuff."

"Don't you 7A guys believe in down-and-dirty fighting or something?"

"Yeah, we do, but we've never had to do it. Get ready, here they come."

I took a step back, and readied myself. One of the men had obviously done his homework, because he cautiously stuck his neck out of the door, below head height, about level with my chest. He turned and saw me, and his eyes widened, but he didn't get the chance to retreat. Crouched down, within leg reach of the man, I kicked upwards with all my force. I heard his neck snap in two, and he crumpled to the floor.

As the man lay dying, Mike snatched up my P229 and charged into the room, both guns blazing. The three remaining soldiers in the room didn't stand a chance, with Mike and Matt both up and firing at them. I stayed crouched outside the door, and listened as they finished off the men.

"That was too close for comfort."

"You're telling me."

"Let's get out of here."

"Wait, before we go, I was copying stuff onto a CD, and I dropped it over here, where I was standing."

"Where?"

"Here."

He held up a CD in a paper case covered in dirty footprints.

"Accidentally step on it, did you?"

"Shut up, I was getting shot at, alright?"

"Hope it's still good."

"Someone'll be able to get it working."

I took a deep breath and began speaking into my microphone.

"Larry, all the hostiles are down. Repeat, they're all down, we have eleven dead. And Matt's got a CD that he copied, apparently it's got some good stuff on it."

"Are you guys hurt at all?"

"Nope, no injuries whatsoever."

He whistled softly.

"Nice work then."

"Thanks. What should we do now?"

"Well, me and Phil have just managed to get Daniel, Buffy and Brett out of the damned lecture theatre. That wasn't any fun, but we're not hurt, other than bumps and bruises. I'm guessing there's still no sign of Graham."

"Nope."

"Shit, I hope he's alright."

"Me too."

"Do I hear two people talking about my welfare?"

Relief filled me as I heard Graham's cheeky voice.

"Yeah, we were talking about you, because no-one's heard a word from you in a while."

"Well, you see, I was kinda being chased by these soldier guys, and my microphone fell off, I mustn't have put it on properly. When I ditched them, I went back to look for it, and I just found it now and put it back on. Miraculously, it still works."

"It's good to hear you're okay, Graham."

"Yeah, I'm glad to still be in the land of the living too."

"You didn't run into any trouble?"

"Only the two assholes that were chasing me, and they got what was coming to them."

"Well it's all good then. And where's Tamara?"

"I'm here."

"What have you been up to, Tam?"

"Nothing, I've been hearing shouts and screams and gunfire, but I haven't seen a single person while we've been here."

"For real?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's ten present and accounted for. Before we get into any more conflicts, let's get out of here, shall we?"

"That sounds like a mighty good plan."

"You guys know what to do. We'll meet outside in five. See you all then."

Five minutes later 

Matt, Mike and I were lounging around outside, waiting for the others to arrive. Actually, correction, we were all ready to go, sitting in Matt's white Magna. From shadows around the side of the building, Graham emerged, all dirty.

"Take the long way around, did you?"

"Yeah, I ended up scaling half the damn building on the outside."

"At least you made it in one piece."

About a second after he had jumped into the car, Tamara appeared from a side entrance to the building. While we were all slightly messy from gunfire and combat, she looked as pristine as she had when we arrived.

"Well, wasn't that exciting?"

"For the rest of us, it was rather eventful, yeah."

"I was bored out of my brain, good thing I found a vending machine to keep me busy."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Uh, no."

I rolled my eyes. She was a real piece of work sometimes.

Suddenly, the glass doors at the front of the building burst open, and the glass in them shattered into a million pieces. In a hail of gunfire, Larry, Phil, Brett, Daniel and Buffy sprinted out of the building, closely pursued by a small army of soldiers.

"Shit, they're in trouble again."

"When are they _not in trouble?"_

"Good point."

Lowering the window, I started firing at the front of the oncoming wave of hostiles. Surprised, they slowed down, before turning and firing back.

"Uh, Matt, I suggest you start moving before they turn this thing into a sieve."

"You don't have to tell me twice. Everyone, hold on!"

And Matt planted his foot on the accelerator. We sped down the street, going at least eighty before we turned the corner. Not far behind us was the rest of the group, piled into Graham's Ford. 

"Think they're going to follow us?"

"They can't. We're gone."


	11. Chapter 10: A History Lesson For Us All

**CHAPTER 10**

**A HISTORY LESSON FOR US ALL**

Finally, blissfully, we arrived back at our place, very tired, very dirty, very exhausted. I checked my watch. 5am.

"You guys are staying here for the night, alright?"

"I can't be stuffed driving all the way back to Yarraville, so yeah, we're staying here."

As quickly as we could, we set up bedding for the five JC members. At half past five, I had the chance to go to bed, and I seized it. I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow. For once, I did not dream.

At noon, I stumbled out of bed, still tired and very bleary-eyed. I found a relative party going on outside, as my nine best friends discussed the night's events.

"Man, I can't believe they ambushed us." Mike still couldn't come to terms with it.

"Yeah, they knew we were coming."

"Even worse, they knew it was _us coming."_

"True, with that whole neo-mitochondria blocking thing."

"How did they do that?"

"And how did they know it was us?"

"They must know we're alive."

"Then we're in big trouble."

"Wait, who's 'they'?"

"NCA. The government. Celgro. Who knows. 'They' is just a pretty good description for now, a description of everyone we're fighting against."

"So why are you guys in trouble, just because they know you're alive?"

Matt took a sip of Coke before replying.

"For the past year and a half, we've been pretty much able to do whatever we want. Everyone thinks we're dead, and with the identities we borrowed, we've got relative freedom. But now, that's all going to change. They know we're alive, and they're going to come after us. They know who we are, what we do, how we do it. It could be a major problem."

"You guys are just going to have to hide again."

"Hide? Where?"

"In a place no-one would think to look. Actually, in a place no-one is _allowed_ to look."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, B1?"

"How old are you, Daniel, two or something?"

"Wait, you guys don't mean…"

"Yeah, we do mean. Pomborneit."

Across the yard, Phil was giving Larry a dirty look.

"We told you guys to check out the warehouse in Pomborneit."

"But we hadn't got around to doing it yet. Besides, you guys botched your job pretty badly, you need to do something to redeem yourselves."

"Botched it up? Christ, we were ambushed!"

"And if it wasn't for us, you'd all be dead or captured. You guys owe us. Big time."

Brett sighed.

"Okay, okay, we see your point. You guys helped us out, we owe you one."

"I'm sorry, what was that? I didn't hear you. Say it again for me?" I loved teasing him.

"No I won't say it again, smartass."

"Anyways, let's have a look what's on that CD Matt downloaded."

I retrieved my laptop from my room. Matt booted it up, and accessed the CD drive. I was bewildered.

"Wait, I've got a medium-sized army of passwords on that thing, how did you…?"

He chuckled.

"Well, there's two answers to that question. One, I can hack straight through all the password protections. Two, I know all your passwords, so hey presto, I plug them straight in and away we go."

I cringed. Mike raised an eyebrow.

"You haven't changed any of your passwords in a year and a half?"

"I haven't changed any of my passwords in the last five years."

Everyone started making disapproving noises at me. I ignored them all and focussed on Matt's clicking of the keys.

"Aw shoot, all the files are corrupted."

"What do you mean, corrupted?"

"I mean, Tamara, that they won't open. It looks like there's some sort of block on them, so they can only be accessed on Celgro's network of computers."

"Are you sure they're not just corrupted because you stepped on the CD a few zillion times?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, so shut up already."

"Can't you work around that block, anyway?"

"Nope. Wait, here's one file I can open."

Ten faces crowded around the screen.

"It's a file about one of the Project Stella biologists. Wait, why am I telling you, you can read it all yourselves."

From: Ben Little, head of Celgro security To: Stephen Dobson, head of Project Stella Subject: Project Stella biologist, Aya Brea 

_During a routine security check into all members of Project Stella, we discovered an anomaly in the psychological profile of Miss Brea. She appears to have moral concerns over the work being performed in Project Stella. Further investigation revealed that she has a link to the First Mitochondria War, her now-deceased daughter was a founding member of the Kyzah movement. _

_Security advises you to keep a close eye on Miss Brea. Unless you can be completely sure of her loyalty to the Project, I strongly recommend that she be removed and detained until further notice. _

_B. Little_

"Brea? The name's familiar…"

"I know, where have we heard it before?"

Mike, Matt, Brett, Buffy, Phil and I all knew the name Brea. 7A looked on helplessly as we tried to work out how we knew the name. Minutes ticked by.

"That's it, I worked it out. Eve."

"No way."

"That's right, Eve's surname was Brea."

"She never used it, though, everyone just knew her as Eve."

"Wait, who's Eve?"

Daniel's question interrupted our chatter. It was a fair enough question too.

"Eve was… the guinea pig for artificial neo-mitochondria."

"Huh??"

Larry was even more confused. For a moment I stopped, lost in memories. I had known Eve, I had known her better than most. I tried to find the right words to describe just who she was.

"Eve was a close companion of Jay Talleja."

"If I recall correctly, it was her idea to create the Kyzah movement."

"That's right, and Talleja injected her with some of his neo-mitochondria."

"The experiment didn't go well."

"It went fine at first, but then she had some kind of adverse reaction."

"She lost control of the neo-mitochondria."

"Yeah, she went nuts."

"Talleja refined the technique of inserting neo-mitochondria, and went on to create the rest of the Kyzahs."

"And, as they say, the rest is history."

"So… what happened to Eve?"

We thought about it for a while.

"No-one knows."

"The last I heard of her was during the war. Talleja kept her locked in a mitochondrial cage, down at Highpoint."

"It was the only way he could stop her from going berserk."

"She has to be dead now, I mean, there's nothing left of Highpoint but the huge war memorial."

"Okay, so that's the story of Eve Brea in a hundred words or less. And this Aya Brea's her mother?"

"Looks like it."

It was then that I realized just how… different JC and 7A were. No, not different, that's not the right word. JC was a unit, a self-sufficient squad, just like 7A was. But JC was united in the context of war, we had shared some pretty bad experiences that 7A could not even begin to understand. It felt like there was a huge gulf separating us, a gap that I didn't know how to bridge. I could see the obvious discomfort on the faces of 7A as we discussed the war. The war wasn't a good time for anyone, JC especially. Reliving it was painful. But it had to be done.

Gradually, I noticed Matt had stopped talking and was deep in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts, Matt."

"If you can find a penny to give me, I'll gladly tell you what I'm thinking."

"Okay, maybe not a penny. Is five cents close enough?"

"Good enough for me. I was just thinking, how can we use this to our advantage?"

"Use what?"

"The fact that Eve's mother is on the project, and that she might have realized that the idea behind Stella's not exactly the most sensible idea ever invented."

"Hmmm, not sure."

In the corner of the yard, Graham was getting more and more excited.

"Can't you guys see how to use it?"

"Um… no."

"We get to the mother! We convince her that Stella is wrong, that she should be helping us, and if we stop the project we'll be avenging her daughter's death! Don't you see? It's obvious!"

"That sure is an idea."

"And it sounds all good in theory, Graham, I mean, I ain't knocking it, but will it work in practice?"

"I don't see why not."

"I hate to throw a major spanner in the works, and spoil what sounds to be a really good idea, but how exactly do we get to Aya, the mother? I mean, we can't just rock up to Celgro and say we want to meet with her. How are we going to do it?"

Daniel, doing what he does best. Arguing against things, poking holes in arguments and ideas. I knew it all too well.

We all sat for a while, just thinking. Eventually, it was Buffy who came up with the idea of how to approach Aya Brea. 

"Eureka!" she cried.

Tamara burst out laughing.

"You goof, no-one says that anymore."

"Yeah they do, well I do anyways."

"What's all the noise about?"

Tamara had woken up Phil, who had fallen asleep, sprawled out on a lawn lounge.

"I've got an idea."

"Well, spill it already!"

She outlined her idea. It was interesting, and just crazy enough to work, I have to admit. For hours, we talked about her idea, finding and fixing flaws. By nightfall, we'd come up with a rough plan. It sounded good. Not great, just okay. It was going to have to do.


End file.
